


A Light in the Darkness

by SuperWhoLockianFangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Pre-Series, Romance, Stanford Era, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockianFangirl/pseuds/SuperWhoLockianFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam left for Stanford, he left wanting a normal, safe life. His old life, however, makes a habit of poking its head at the least opportune moments. Sam can't even be sure if he's upset about this, or grateful for Dean reminding him he still has family.</p><p>A brief look at the years between Sam leaving and Jessica's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Light in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I wanted to try improving my skills at writing present-tense. Hope you enjoy!

**I.**

The bus station is crowded and Sam feels himself being jostled this way and that as he tries to fight his way to the exit. He’s in San Francisco for the first time in his life. It seems strange, to him, that in eighteen years his father never worked a job here. He quickly shoves thoughts of his dad out of his mind, firmly pressing a lid on the anger and hurt that swell up in his chest.

He avoids eye contact as he steps out into the cool night air. Slinging his duffle bag closer to himself, he looks down and checks his pocket, making sure that the money he’d managed to save over the course of his senior year in high school was still there.

He had been meticulous in the saving, taking as many odd jobs as he could, hiding the money from his father and brother. He hated lying to Dean – Dean was always so honest, always there for him if he needed him – but he knew Dean would’ve told their father and then John would’ve asked questions.

But that’s all behind him now, he thinks as he heads aimlessly down the busy street. Cars are whirring by in metallic blurs and he tries very hard not to think about his family. This is what he wants. He keeps reminding himself that things will work out.

He spends his first night in San Francisco in a small motel. It’s uncomfortable, but something he is very used to. He finds it very strange that the motel room is so quiet. There’s no sound of Dean jabbering away about girls or movies, his dad isn’t there talking about possible jobs they need to work. It’s unnerving.

He doesn’t sleep well. He attributes that to the poor mattress and not his family’s absence.

 

**II.**

He is suspicious of everyone for the first few weeks, likely a bi-product of his upraising. He tenses at unexpected touches, flinches at voices that seem to come from nowhere and refuses to sit with his back to any door.

He carries his knife with him everywhere.

Gradually, though, he allows himself to feel safe. It’s a strange, alien feeling for Sam Winchester. He doesn’t feel like there are monsters hovering over him in his sleep anymore. His chest isn’t tight with that tingling, pervasive fear whenever he goes to the campus lab to work on a paper.

He allows himself to get close to people.

In the back of his mind, he still finds himself wondering what Dean is doing. He valiantly refuses to think of his father. But he worries that maybe Dean will think he hates him too… He doesn’t particularly like that idea, but he doesn’t call to make sure it isn’t true. Calling Dean now would be an acknowledgement to a past he doesn’t want to think about.

 

**III.**

Sam has never been happier than he is at Stanford. He is on his own, truly, for the first time ever. He has an apartment off campus, a job at the campus bookstore and is even making friends.

For the past several weeks he’s been invited out for drinks and a couple of girls asked him to go see some movie with them. He never spent much time with friends in high school. There was always some monster that needed killing, Latin to be translated or weapons to be cleaned.

He relishes the new experiences, lingering on the edge of the social group for a while, getting a feel for it all. Even now, though, making friends and having fun, people still see him as too serious, too focused.

A friend tells him that he needs to loosen up more. Sam immediately thinks of Dean and all the times Dean’s ever said that to him.

 

**IV.**

Sam never dated much either. He would go out with a girl once or twice, usually after a long and anxious conversation with Dean, but nothing ever got too serious. His longest relationship was with Rachel, the girl he went to prom with.

He thinks about her now as he listens to the redhead in front of him chatter animatedly. He knows she is flirting with him, her green eyes bright with interest. She leans forward and her shirt is cut low enough for him to see her breasts.

He looks, but flushes a bit and quickly averts his eyes. Sam hasn’t had much experience sexually – two girls in nearly nineteen years is well beneath his brother’s own staggering record. This girl will eat him alive, he thinks.

She asks him to go with her to a movie and he accepts, but as soon as she’s gone he scrubs his damp palms on his jeans.

He has is phone out and has scrolled to Dean’s number before he can stop himself. He wants so badly to talk to Dean about this. Dean would know what he should do.

He actually presses the button. He lets the phone ring. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he hangs up and shoves his phone away. Best not to reopen old wounds. Not today.

 

**V.**

He really had liked Cathy – the pretty redhead whose invitation to a movie he’d nervously accepted three months earlier. She had a beautiful smile and didn’t say no to a lot of things. She was going to introduce him to her parents.

That had prompted him to actually call Dean. Dean hadn’t answered. He wondered if Dean had simply missed the call or was avoiding him. He wouldn’t have blamed Dean for ignoring him. He didn’t leave a message.

In the end, his panic had been for nothing because Cathy left him before the planned meet-the-folks dinner.

They had spent the night at Sam’s apartment. Sam was careful to make sure they didn’t do that often. Cathy had woken before Sam did and made coffee, then, because she was curious, she opened his bedroom closet and found the old duffle bag.

He had forgotten it was even there, it had been so long since he’d stuffed it as far back as possible. She opened it to find his weapons cash. Sam had never been able to rid himself of – that persistent paranoia still whispered in the back of his mind.

She was too freaked to even talk to Sam about it. She became convinced he was a serial killer. Apparently, the katana and machetes were too much, even for adventurous Cathy.

After that, Sam makes sure to keep his weapons hidden much more carefully, lest anyone else stumble upon them and come to false conclusions.

 

**VI.**

He hasn’t seen Dean for over a year when he gets a knock on his door. He’s just about ready to go out – it’s his birthday and his friend Michael insisted on hosting a party. Twenty doesn’t seem like much to celebrate to Sam, but decides to go along anyway.

When he pulls the door open, however, his whole world stops. There’s Dean, standing there with an awkward grin on his face, hands shoved into a leather jacket that Sam recognizes as their father’s.

He grabs Dean’s arm and drags him inside, as if anyone seeing him there would be cataclysmic.

“What are you doing here?”

He isn’t sure why he whispers. There isn’t anyone in the apartment to overhear them, but it just feels right to whisper.

Dean’s grin is still awkward, unsure and a bit nervous. Sam hasn’t seen Dean look so nervous before in his whole life.

“Happy birthday, Sammy,”

Sam frowns, “It’s Sam,”

The smile vanishes.

“Whatever,” Dean sighs, “I just thought…” he rubs a hand against the back of his neck and Sam shifts uncomfortably, “it’s your birthday, Sam. I wanted to see you. It’s been a while.”

Sam’s throat tightens. He wants to hug Dean. He wonders why he doesn’t. It’s been such a long time and, truly, he has missed his big brother. But seeing him is bringing back uncomfortably painful memories. Memories he’s worked hard to rid himself of.

“Only a year,” he says.

Dean frowns, “ _Only_?” he scoffs and Sam presses his lips together.

“Is Dad here?” He clears his throat as he asks the question. He isn’t sure which answer he is anticipating the most.

“No,” Dean looks down, breaking eye contact. “Dad’s on a job.”

Sam feels his heart sink. So apparently he had wanted his dad to be there. He has to remind himself that this isn’t the first birthday his dad has missed.

“Right, well… I’ve got to go,” Sam says, motioning toward the door, “There’s a party…”

“Of course,” Dean nods and his smile is painful. Sam feels guilty for that look. “Got a new life now, I guess. College friends. See you around, Sammy.”

He leaves and Sam feels something snap in his chest. Something painful. His eyes burn, but he doesn’t let himself cry. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it?

 

**VII.**

It’s almost a month before he calls Dean. This time Dean answers. They talk for almost an hour. Not about hunting or about school, but just about things. Movies and girls.

Dean doesn’t even broach the subject of their father until the end of the conversation. Until then, Sam can almost pretend this is normal. A normal brother-to-brother talk, catching up after lost time without actually catching up.

“You know, Dad… Dad misses you, Sammy,”

He snorts, “I doubt that,”

“It’s true,”

Sam doesn’t respond for a moment and Dean continues.

“I miss you too, Sam,” he says, “We could really use you out here –“

“Can we not do this?” Sam’s voice is harsh, his knuckles tight on the phone. “Please, Dean,”

“Come on, we’re just talking,”

“Yeah, and if Dad really missed me, he can pick up the phone himself. I don’t want to talk about it, Dean.”

“Sammy –“

“It’s Sam,”

He hangs up. Doesn’t answer when Dean calls back a few seconds later. He deletes the voicemail without listening to it. Tries to remind himself that he didn’t want any reminders of his past anyway.

That night, he has to tell himself that it’s not a bad thing that he cries himself to sleep. It’s just stress.

 

**VIII.**

The next time he talks to Dean is almost a year after that phone call. Dean calls him this time, voice tight with worry and terribly anxious.

John’s in the hospital. Nothing serious, just a broken leg. Dean is freaked though. He’d thought John was going to die. He gets pissed at Sam when he refuses to go see him at the hospital.

He reminds him that LA isn’t really all that far away and maybe this a chance for them to make up. Sam tells Dean he’s got nothing to apologize for.

_“What about running out on your family?”_

Dean’s angry. Sam hasn’t heard him this angry before. He knew his leaving hurt, but he had expected Dean to at least understand why. Apparently he didn’t. His chest hurts like he’s been stabbed.

He tells Dean that he isn’t coming back, that John doesn’t want him to come back. He all but told him he hated him. Dean insists John doesn’t hate Sam. He begs him to at least go to the hospital.

Sam reminds Dean that John told him never to come back.

This time, it’s Dean who hangs up furiously. Sam doesn’t bother calling him back. It’s better this way, he thinks. Maybe this time it’ll be a clean break.

 

**IX.**

Less than two weeks after that last phone call, Sam turns twenty-one. He’s not at all excited about it, not like his friends insist he should be.

He thinks about Dean most of the night. Realizes he hasn’t seen or heard from him at all today. It’s the first birthday Dean’s ever missed.

That thought wedged the metaphorical knife further into his heart. His friends tell him he’s being sour. Tell him to lighten up. He’s ruining his own birthday party.

Halfway through the night, his friend Brady nudges him, tells him he needs to live a little. Then he introduces him to a pretty girl with blond curls.

Her name is Jessica and Sam thinks her smile makes his whole world stop.

 

**X.**

Things with Jessica move both slow and rapidly fast at the same time. Something clicks with Jessica like nothing ever has before for Sam.

Everything about her is so perfect. She laughs, she jokes, she teases him and prods him and she doesn’t seem to mind all that much whenever he zones out and starts thinking about his family.

She tells him about her dreams and he shares his with her. Within six months, they’re living together and it feels so natural. It feels _right_. Sam hasn’t felt this feeling before in his life.

He gets the urge to call Dean again, but stamps it down. Dean doesn’t want to hear from him again. It’s been far too long since the last angry phone call.

When she asks Sam to meet her parents, it isn’t like it was with Cathy. There is no terror and panic. He’s nervous, but he is thrilled she wants him to meet them. They’re just as nice as she is.

Sam feels like he’s finally found a normal family to be part of. They ask about his family, he mumbles through his explanation of his brother and father. He never mentions his mother and they’re polite enough not to ask.

 

**XI.**

Sam enjoys discovering new things about Jessica. Her love for bad romance novels, her inability to cook anything outside of a microwave, her passion for singing. He loves the way her eyes light up as she talks about her favorite bands, loves the way her nose crinkles up a bit at the mention doing the dishes.

He loves that they can sit together in total silence for hours and still feel content. He loves that some mornings they’ll lie in bed next to each other and she’ll lazily trail her fingers down his chest or back and hum the tune to “You are My Sunshine”.

Eight months in and Sam’s starting to think Jess really is the one. Her smile lights up his world. Her laugh makes him laugh.

Sam Winchester is in love.

 

**XII.**

His twenty-second birthday goes and passes without a call from Dean. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did the year before and Sam’s certain that it’s because of Jessica.

There are still days when he wants to call Dean, to tell him about this wonderful girl and share his happiness with his brother.

Thoughts of his father stop him. He can’t bring himself to think about John and he knows if he calls Dean will try to get him to come back.

He settles into this new life once more. Happier than he’s ever been. Content, even. There were times in the past where Sam wouldn’t have thought that was possible, but in Jessica’s arms, he find contentment.

He resolves to ask this girl to marry him before the year is out.

 

**XIII.**

It’s Halloween and Sam hasn’t found the perfect ring left. He’s all too aware that the year is running out. He wants to ask her, but not without the ring. The ring has to be perfect.

He watches Jess get ready for the costume party she’s dragging him to and thinks about how much he wants to spend forever with her. She is the shining beacon of hope in a dark and dangerous world.

Sam spends much of the night alternating between thoughts of Jessica’s ring and thoughts of his interview at Stanford. His future is coming together. Everything seems so perfectly in place.

Soon, he hopes to be engaged and going to law school. Things have never felt so great.

Unfortunately, things fall apart all too quickly for the men of the Winchester family.

That night, for the first time in over two years, Dean decides to remind Sam that he does indeed have a past.

This time it’s, annoyingly, by breaking into his apartment.

Sam tries to tell himself he’s angry about Dean’s intrusion, but really, he’s just annoyed that Dean decided breaking in was the best course of action. He takes a bit too much enjoyment out of introducing Jess and Dean.

He’s imagined this moment in the past – certainly not like this – but has to admit, Dean never fails to surprise.

It’s only at the mention of their father that Sam becomes truly angry. Happy as he might have been to see his brother, now he just wants him out.

It annoys him beyond words that Dean makes a compelling case for why he needs help this time. It took him two years, but Dean finally found a way to get Sam back.

 

**XIV.**

Sam hates to admit that he enjoys hunting with Dean. The adrenaline, the excitement… Much as he had hated the danger and the way they grew up, it was nice to team up with his brother.

He hadn’t felt this close to Dean in a very long time.

He wonders, again, why he hasn’t told Dean that. But Dean hasn’t told him anything of the sort either. Maybe it’s just him.

Dean looks broken when Sam tells him he still wants to go to his interview at Stanford. Sam wants to apologize, but he really can’t miss this interview. It’s his entire future, a future he’s worked too hard for to simply give it up.

This time, as he steps out of the Impala, he isn’t resolving to leave this behind. He will help Dean find their dad, if he can. But he isn’t going to put his life on hold to do it. He thinks maybe he can balance it. At least for as long as it takes to make sure John is okay.

Spending this time with Dean made Sam realize he doesn’t want to cut him out of his life completely. He’s strangely grateful that John went missing; though he does worry his dad could be in serious trouble. At least he got to reconnect with Dean…

 

**XV.**

It doesn’t hit him that Jess is truly gone until long after the firefighters show up. Dean is still by his side, watching him anxiously.

Sam thinks there’s a hole in his chest, bleeding profusely. Everything that was Jessica is fading away from him. Her shining eyes, her sweet laugh, her terrible cooking… He realizes he’ll never experience any of that with her again.

He realizes he’ll never get to find the perfect ring. He’ll never get to ask her to marry him.

He looks to his brother and the knife that was once in his chest feels strangely absent, that hole there in its place.

Determination fills him.

He will find this thing and he will kill it. He will not rest until it’s dead. He moves over to the Impala, thoughts racing.

He can feel Dean beside him, but doesn’t look up for a moment. When he does, he see his brother’s eyes on him, concern and sympathy making them shine. He thinks, oddly, that Dean is the only light he has left in this world. Dean is all he has to hold on to.

He’s incredibly grateful that Dean won’t let him drown. He wants to hug him. He still doesn’t and he still wonders why.

Instead, he tosses the gun he’d been holding into the trunk and reaches for the lid.

“We’ve got work to do…”

* * *

**-end-**

**Author's Note:**

> That turned out longer and most angsty than I originally intended. I hope that it was alright! Any thoughts or comments are appreciated!


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